


hush

by midwesterosi



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M, Iceburns, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Romance, Shameless Smut, helsa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:56:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3252308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midwesterosi/pseuds/midwesterosi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe it was the way he moved around her, deliberately close and yet just outside her periphery, forever teetering on the edge of something unattainable which she shouldn’t even want.</p><p>But she did. Want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hush

**Author's Note:**

> dear helsa fandom,  
> i wrote you this 4,000 word porn no one asked for.  
> love,  
> midwesterosi

hush

 

If asked later, Elsa couldn't have articulated exactly how she found herself in such a situation. There had been a lot of drinking and some dancing, though not enough of either to completely deprive her of her senses. Perhaps it had been the week full of flirting thinly disguised behind scathing critiques and endless bickering followed by long hard looks that betrayed the passion in their words. Maybe it was the way he moved around her, deliberately close and yet just outside her periphery, forever teetering on the edge of something unattainable which she shouldn't even want.

But she did. Want.

The first few days she had tried desperately to deny it, but then she had cornered him after dinner on the third night and things had gotten complicated, to put it mildly. She couldn't remember who exactly had made the first move, but the results were his lips at her throat and her hands tangled in the thick hair at the base of his skull, the texture of it coarse against her ungloved fingers. The scrap of teeth and the hushed exhale of her name brought her back to the present.

They were tucked into an alcove just outside of the ballroom, well within sight of any who cared to search for the suspiciously absent monarchs. He had lured her there with a gentle hand at her wrist and a look that promised a scandal she saw no way of escaping even if she had wanted to.

She didn't want. To escape.

“Hans,” his lips teased her earlobe just behind her jewelry and she found it incredibly hard to remember what she had been about to say, the last part of his name escaping her in a long drawn-out hiss of pleasure. The sound of voices approaching was a brutal reminder of what should have been obvious, but had been easy to ignore through the haze of passion, “We have to go somewhere less conspicuous.”

She could feel his grin against her skin, his tone suggestive and his breath warm as he spoke into her hair, “You want to go somewhere private?”

Elsa was annoyed, wondering if he'd make her spell it out for him to stoke his own ego. “Isn't that what I said?”

Her entire body mourned the loss of his presence as he leaned back, still smiling full of dark promises, lips slightly wet from where his tongue had passed before them. He gestured down the hall, “After you, my lady.”

She knew the castle well enough by now, having spent the last week there as part of a diplomatic envoy and seeing to several important trade-agreements that had been put off for the last few years due to the unfortunate events of her coronation and the strain it put on the relationship between their nations. If there was any irony in that, she didn't care to dwell on it. As it was, she was aware of more than a few rooms that would serve their purpose, but she wasn't feeling particularly coy, decidedly not, and so she led him to the one room she hadn't been inside of yet that she had wanted to see.

“Here?” Even Hans seemed a little surprised at her boldness.

“Yes,” if she was nervous, there was no trace of it in her voice, though once he had secured the door behind them, she couldn't help but remark, “I don't normally – that is, I mean, I've never actually . . .”

“Oh, well, that's not really surprising, is it?” He sounded more relieved than amused, though she could hear the smirk in his voice. His hands found light purchase low on her hips and he placed a few gentle kisses along the column of her neck. The sensation of standing with the dark expanse of the room to her front and the warmth of his touch at her back was almost sinful. She desperately wished he would add fervor to the caress, but was afraid of how she would react if he did.

“I haven't either,” he confessed, letting go of her to light the lamps, which cast a warm glow across the previously unknown landscape. Elsa was distracted from taking in the details of their settings by his admission.

“What?” She was utterly disbelieving as she made her was to the edge of the bed and sat down, “That can't possibly be true.”

Hans laughed, sharp and self-deprecating, “Why would I lie about that?” He made a great show of setting his coat along the back of a chair and unbuttoning his shirt cuffs to roll back the sleeves. When his hands were revealed, long fingered with square palms and slender wrists, Elsa promptly forgot her many arguments against the likeliness of his honesty.

“To seduce me, perhaps?” She suggested as she undid her braids, unconcerned with how that might appear to others later. After.

He smirked as he sat down next to her, his weight on the mattress drawing her nearer his gravity. “I seemed to be accomplishing that goal just fine without being dishonest.” He gently helped her with the intricate updo, seemingly patient for the reward of her undressing.

“If that's true then why would you want to be with me?” It was strange to think a man with such seemingly loose morals would have retained some sense of innocence.

“Why would you?”

She paused in the middle of shaking out her hair, her scalp tingling from hours of being pulled too tight, to look at him as though just realizing where she was. She couldn't claim she loved him, certainly not, she barely knew him, nor could she say it felt like something special, like something she had been searching for her whole life. But she knew it was what she wanted. Absolutely and wholly, she wanted this, had been yearning for it and dreading her own desires for the better part of seven days and now it could be a reality if they let it.

“We don't have to, you know,” he took the stillness of her realization for reluctance.

“No, we don't have to,” she let herself lean into him, using one hand to support her weight and running the other up his chest, following the line of buttons to the edge of his exposed collarbone just peeking out of his unbound shirt, “But I want to. Do you?”

“Yes,” he didn't hesitate, cupping her face between his hands and bringing her lips to his, the texture of his fingers surprisingly rough and calloused against the sensitive skin of her cheek. His kiss was like fire, pouring his heat over and into her, demanding her fervent response and drawing low moans from deep in her throat. His lips were hungry and hard at first, to which she responded in kind, nipping at his bottom lip impatiently, aching for the long slide of his tongue against hers. They devoured one another hungrily with teeth and lips and tongue. Finally, the rush of passion burned through its initial fuel, leaving steady embers glowing in its wake. Hans pulled back, both of them gasping desperately for air as though it were the first time they tasted it, and Elsa drew her hands along the seam of his shirt, making short work of his buttons with her nimble fingers. He smiled unabashed at her show of impatience and shrugged the garment off to be lost somewhere among the shadows that cut across the floor. “Eager, are we?” He teased, but the heat in his gaze suggested she wasn't the only one.

“If anyone is over-dressed in this situation, it's you,” with a single flick of her wrist her gown melted away to nothing, the magic that held the garment together lost to whence it came. The way his eyes darkened and his pupils dilated at the sight of her pale as porcelain and practically glowing in the lamplight made her shiver in anticipation.

“Eager, indeed,” he commented, but didn't seem to be complaining as he reached for her, pulling her nude body against his still mostly-clothed form. The texture of his pants was coarse against the inside of her thighs as she settled over him, wrapping her arms around his wide shoulders to steady herself. Slowly, his wound his hand over the exposed expanse of her back, fingers dipping between each vertebra as though he were counting them. His other hand found the firm meat where her thigh met hip and squeezed until she gasped and arched against him.

“Hans,” she sighed, one hand loosely trailing over his back while the other grasped his hair tightly, pressing his face into her upturned chest. He took her cue easily enough, lips and tongue trailing over her collarbone and down towards her breasts. Every part of her seemed swollen, aching for his touch. When his tongue passed over a nipple, hard and stiff in the cool night air, she cried out sharply, the sensation like a jolt through her whole body. Encouraged by her visceral reaction he repeated the motion. After a few passes with his tongue he applied gentle pressure with his teeth before sucking at her wantonly. A hand found its way to her unoccupied breast to lavish it with equal attention, twisting her nipple with his fingers and rubbing the sharp sensation away with his thumb in turns. She wailed with pleasure, teeth gritted in an effort to keep her cries as quiet as she could. She was almost curled around him, writhing with passion as he held her to him insistently, unwilling to let her escape the sweet torture he was inflicting on her body. When she dared look down through eyes squeezed shut in pleasure she found his green gaze locked on her, watching her for every cue to her ecstasy. The intensity of it was too much to bear and she cried out as her strength left her, arms trembling as she fell back into the bed panting.

“Hmmn,” he hummed appreciatively, smiling down at her as she caught her breath, hands curled around her head and hair pooled around her in a golden halo. Hans ran a gentle hand up and down along the inside of the thigh nearest him, making her gasp and shiver every time he drew close to the heat of her sex.

“You should get undressed,” she suggested longingly, making a vague motion for him to do so as though issuing a rather lazy royal decree. He looked down at himself like he had only just now noticed he was still clothed.

“My lady doesn't want to do the honors?”

“I got undressed for you,” she argued as she rolled over on her side, resting her head in one hand and smirking when she caught him staring unabashed at her bare form.

His grin widened. “Fair enough.”

He moved without haste. She watched the roll of his shoulders as he stood and unbuttoned his trousers, admiring the way his muscles tensed and corded in the dim light. He kicked the offending cloth away and turned toward her and he undid the ties of his undergarments, watching her watch him as he stripped. They were both strangely silent, each intent on the other and their every reaction. His arousal was evident, but he didn't seem ashamed by it and in spite her inexperience Elsa was unafraid.

Finally, he was bare before her and the sight was enough to make her bite her bottom lip and shift toward him in anticipation. Easing her way to the edge of the bed she placed a firm kiss along the indent where his waist became pelvic bone. This close she could smell his musky scent and wanted to explore further, enticed by the promise of the flavor of him.

“Elsa,” he warned, but it was too late, her lips already descending to explore the sensitive planes of his stomach and landing sloppy open-mouthed kisses along the juncture where his legs met his torso. His hair tickled her chin as she moved lower, her hand traversing the territory before her mouth, running along his shaft to gather pre-cum at his tip with her thumb. “Elsa,” he was pleading perhaps, though if it were for respite he should have known her well enough by now than to think she would relent. Finally, she closed her mouth over him and the low guttural moan it drew from the prince was enough to make her want to continue. Before this moment, she had known this was something a man's partner often did for him, but she certainly couldn't have described the appeal. The way he braced himself around her in pleasure, fingers digging into the soft skin of her back as he fought himself for control, gave her a sense of power more alluring than being the ruler of a lonely mountain, locked away in her tower forever, and she drew him deeper just to see how he would react. The prince did not disappoint, hissing in heavy exhale as he reached the limit of her wicked talent, her hand cupping what she couldn't fit of him in her free hand to brace herself.

She moved up and down over his length a few times, letting herself get accustomed to the sensation of him filling her this way. Experimentally, she ran her tongue along the underside of his member and was rewarded with a deep guttural moan and his hand buried in her hair. Every muscle in his body seemed to shiver with the need to force her onto his girth, but he held himself still, perspiration trickling down his brow and gleaming in the lamplight as she took him slowly savoring her control over his pleasure. Finally, his hips twitched and he said her name a third time, now barely above a growl, low and primal, “Elsa.”

She hummed in appreciation around him and this was enough for him to leap from her, the motion sending her falling back into the pillows and laughing at his reaction. He stalked her across the bed like an animal, a hunter intent on his prey, grabbing a flailing ankle as soon as it was within reach and pulling her under his weight. “Do you think that's funny?” His voice was both a warning and a threat as he aligned his hardness against her core, pressing the base of himself against the seat of her pleasure with little room for respite.

“Infinitely so,” she admitted, still smiling in amusement as he hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and used his free hand to squeeze her now exposed thigh and cheek. She gasped when his thumb brushed her core, just under where his manhood caressed her pearl. He seemed to instinctively sense the shift in her mood, thrusting shallowly against her while rubbing his thumb along the seam of exposed lips with every pass.

“Is it still funny?”

“Hans, please,” she didn't care if she was begging, she needed him inside her, his hard manhood dragging achingly slow over her core only to be teased in turn by his fingers was driving her mad and fueled the flames of her desire that much deeper.

“Did you really think it would be that easy?” He kissed her neck like a threat, sure to leave a mark in the morning, and moved lower until the promise of him filling her seemed far away. Her leg was still loosely sprawled across his back and when his lips found her thigh her heel dug into his flanks like rider to mount urging his attentions further.

First, his lips landed soft against the sensitive skin directly above her knee, causing her to shudder and still, her entire body tensed with the anticipation of his next caress. Then, the slide of his tongue and a gentle bite that made her moan long and low. He teased her like this for as long as he could afford, peppering her body with little affections that made her writhe in want. Finally, his breath hovered over her aching center, hot and wet, the sweetest of temptations. His hands found either side of her to spread her further still to his feasting eyes and mouth.

All at once, he was upon her, mouth pressed against her core just bellow the seat of her bliss and tongue driving into her without mercy. He drank from her like a man who had not seen water in days and the sensation was so intense her knees drew together instinctively, her muscles contracting in pleasure, but his vice-like grip prevented her from closing herself to him, and so she was left merciless to his attentions. Her back arched and blindly she reached for anything that might provide purchase: the edge of the bed, her hair, her own breast, her hands fluttered useless and wild, an extension of her sheer ecstasy.

Just when she felt she might finally break, thinking she'd reached the pinnacle of her pleasure, for what could be beyond this, he pressed a single digit into her, letting her muscles clamp around him and adjust before moving and then she was keening. Surely, if anyone was nearby, they would know with little doubt that the youngest prince had company in his quarters, but she couldn't bring herself to care let alone stop. He kissed her swollen center with finality as he pumped his hand in a steady rhythm, making his way back up her body as she writhed around him.

“Hans,” she gasped, grinding her pelvis against his hand, searching for release, and then again, “Hans.” He kissed her, deep and hard and she could taste herself on his tongue, tangy, but not wholly unpleasant and the knowledge that it was the result of his worship of her made her slick with want. She wrapped a leg over his hips and he let his hand fall away from her in favor of pulling her core flush against his, his hard length insistent between her swollen lips. She ground against him, letting her pearl run against his wet head, moaning at the sensation. Her whole body seemed to shiver in anticipation at the friction.

Then, slowly, finally, she angled her hips and slid onto him as he pressed likewise into her, both of them making little noises of wonder at the fullness of the feeling, strange and new as it was. When he was wholly seated within her he stilled, their breaths mingling as they gasped for air, each watching the other carefully.

“Hans?” Her whisper came out a question even as her whole body throbbed impatiently reminding her that, obviously, he was still there.

“Yes?” His voice was as quite as hers, as though he feared shattering the moment with volume.

“You're inside of me.”

“I had noticed.”

She laughed.

“Are you okay?” It was odd to hear him sound so concerned, especially when he had little reason to be.

“Yes,” her giggling had shifted their bodies and she gasped at the tiny movements, “Ah, it feels good.”

“Yes,” he agreed, burying his face in the crook of her neck and wrapping his arms around her, rocking his hips shallowly until she was panting, “Is this okay?”

“More,” Elsa wasn't sure if it was a command or appeal, but either way he complied, slowing easing himself from her flesh before driving back in, both of them half-lidded, staring down the expanse of heaving chest and breast, memorized by the scandalous sight of their bodies uniting in a dance as old as time. Elsa swore vividly and had had to bite her lip to stop the the onslaught of random profanities and cries that sought to escape her. Hans laughed horsely in response, his smile branded into the skin of her neck.

They continued like this for long minutes, exploring the sensation of submitting to another's arousal, before Hans shifted his weight and their gazes locked, bold and challenging. He thrust into her bluntly, picking up speed, and her breasts shook with the force of it. Elsa's face contorted into an expression that might have been described as pain had the scene not been so intimate and her soft panting pleas for more. This seemed to encourage his motions as he drove into her harder, seeking to dominate her with pleasure. Elsa angled her hips up onto him in retaliation for his blows, pressing her nerves against his sharp planes in a way that caused stars behind her eyes.

Soon, they were grinding with little rhythm or sense of grace, moans and gasps the only melody to accompany the sound of flesh on flesh and the squeak of the bed. Their bodies were slick with sweat, sliding against one another, mixing their scents with the musky smell of sex that pervaded the room. Elsa's hair stuck to her forehead, curling in long trails across her breasts and getting caught under her elbow when she shifted and placed her hand on his chest.

“Ow,” she complained, struggling to free herself until the prince patiently helped her, having slowed his pace to a stand-still, “Hans, I want to try something different.”

“How?” He sounded desperate, anything to make her continue this mad dance.

She pushed him and he fell away easily, though they both groaned with the loss of contact. She was still hot and swollen and the thought of having him inside of her once more made her pulse with urgency.

She knew what she wanted and although is should have been insulting to her pride to submit to him so, the mere thought of it made her shiver with need. Slowly, she turned and presented her back to his hungry gaze, gathering her hair over her shoulder in one graceful motion. Arranging herself on her hands and knees, she barely had time to glance over the curve of her back to find him upon her, whispering filthy words into her ear as her spread her folds once more and plunged in. Elsa cried out loudly at the new position, the feeling of him so much deeper and sharper. Hans seemed less concerned his being gentle now, which was more than fine with the Snow Queen. She wanted him fiercely, almost violently, and the pressure of his fingers at her hips promised pleasure. His hands grasped her desperately, dragging her back onto his surging length and she gasped wordless and wild as he drove into her relentlessly. Soon, the force of his thrusts stole the strength from her arms and she fell onto her elbows, her cries lost in the pillows as she suffered the ecstasy of his attentions.

“Hans, please. Hans, please,” she didn't know what she was begging for, but as he thrust into her she could feel the heat of her desire threatening to overflow and she welcomed its release.

“Elsa” he groaned into her hair, bowed over her like a worshiper at an idol, one hand still clasping her hip while the other found the bundle of nerves at the seat of her pleasure, running it between two stiff fingers and making her keen, lost in delirium. She cried wildly into the bedding, her entire body convulsing with delight as waves of pleasure washed over her. She could feel the evidence of it running down her legs and the knowledge only made her moan louder.

He tightened around her, caging her body with his as he suddenly stiffened, his trusts deep and frantic as he cried out unintelligibly. She shivered and even as he withdrew, soft and spent, her muscles shuddered around his length, seeking to draw him deeper. There was still a low burn deep in her belly and as he tucked her under his chin, Hans flicked loose lazy fingers against her slick core while she mewled softly, slowly rolling her hips against his hand until she was finally drained, every part of her empty and fully satiated.

They lay in each other's arms, breaths labored and loud in the sudden stillness of the room. The motion of his chest swayed Elsa into a half-sleep before he shifted, moving to draw the covers over their still-nude forms. When she was secured safely under blankets and wrapped in his arms once more, the prince caught her face in one hand, brushing the high planes of her cheek with his thumb and contemplating her with a look that had the queen wholly awake, keenly aware of his presence. Finally, without saying a word, he pressed a long lingering kiss to her forehead and closed his eyes, settling in for the night. Elsa hovered above him, watching the lines ease from his handsome face as he finally drifted off. There would be consequences, she was sure, but they could wait for morning. Between here and then, infinity.

 

end hush.


End file.
